Her ass?  Her garter belt?  Stockings?  High heels?  Perhaps even her tousled brown hair?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes.  But those aren't the reason why I find it sexy.  

She reminds me of the prostitutes in Amsterdam in the Red Light district.  Standing in their red lit windows, many would make eye contact to men passing by and beckon them over.  Many others stood leaning against a wall or sitting on a stool on their cellphones.  I found this both amusing and sexy.  Just like the pic above.  

As with the whores and the pic above, the women are not paying attention to the viewer.  Above, the woman looks through a magazine, looking at another woman whose gaze is averted, as if analyzing something in the distance.  Her legs are crossed, and its easy to imagine she's been swinging them back and forth idly.  She is sexy because the picture makes us voyeurs.  We are not looking at her, we are watching her.  Observing her as she lives.  The whores did this unintentionally, offering to us glimpses of her that are not mediated.  We see the smirks or frowns as she reacts to whatever is on her phone.  And here we see the suggestion that the stockinged legs swing in boredom over the magazine.

Perhaps she waits for a man.  Perhaps a woman.  Perhaps for both.  Perhaps she got all dressed up in order to feel sexy, and then became bored with the game and started reading a magazine.  It is in these unguarded moments, however, when elements of vulnerability emerge, and she becomes exquisitely sexy.

I strongly doubt this is a joke.  The short story (this is not a novel) is written seriously and with some serious choices which are based on scientific theory: the T-Rex has feathers, for example, alluding to theories that the dinosaurs evolved into birds.  However, the fact that humans and dinosaurs coexisted is, of course, a fantasy created for the sake of the erotica genre.  

Beast erotica is a legitimate fetish, and roleplayers pop up on reddit's DPP at least once a day looking to be fucked by a fantastical beast.

Therein lies the catch:  according to pornography laws in the US and the UK, bestiality is not permitted.  But monster porn/erotica is.  The monsters have to be mythical or ancient creatures: unicorns, dinosaurs, dragons, hydras, etc.  They cannot be animals that live in current times.

I fail to understand this distinction, and, when I'm in a good mood, I find it utterly hilarious.  What is the core of the objection to bestiality?  The cross species sexual contact?  Why would that be improper?  Because of the possibility of breeding, of creating human/animal hybrids (even though this isn't possible)?  Is it based on Christian theology and the idea that sex should only be between a man and wife (yes, homosexuality and other sexual orientations not allowed)?

Personally I worry about animal cruelty, but that's not an argument I hear very much against bestiality.  In fact, I hear the opposite.

When I was teaching Theatre History at a university in Texas, a student came up to me after class and said he had a problem: a guy he had a crush on was in a sexual relationship with a golden retriever.  "I really like this guy though." 

I swallowed and asked, "Is the dog being hurt?"

"No!  He loves it.  He's always on this guy humping his leg."

"Perhaps," I said and took a deep breath, "you should look at this in terms of a human relationship.  If this guy was fucking his roommate, would you be okay about it?  Would you want to be with him?"

"No."

"There you go."

And there I went: judging and arguing that bestiality is a sexual orientation, and once which should be seen as identical to a sexual relationship between two humans.

That's a fucking catchy piece of writing: "If you can dream it, you can be it."  I admit, when I was a kid in the eighties, the multiple personae of Barbie was intriguing and inspiring.  I never looked at her as a realistic portrayal of womanhood, nor did I compare my body to hers.  Rather, she was a kind of polymorphous cartoon character whose main attribute was to change.  Not just change her clothes, but change everything.  I never thought Skipper or Midge (or all of the other "friend" incarnations) were anything except an extension of Barbie herself.  They were "Barbie dolls" after all, and with minor physical changes from the central Barbie figure.  

It would seem that today, artists are still playing with Barbie and taking her to the next logical adventure:  Fucking Barbie.

As adults, we're not dreaming of fucking Barbie.  We dream of her fucking, or getting fucked by, her female entourage.  We bend her at the waist and offer her ass up to every other doll we have.  Or we shove her pretty smile into someone else's ass or vagina. 

This is logical and necessary.  Barbie is, after all, a child's version of a blowup doll, or a porn star.  Adults should continue to play with Barbie and express our frustrated sexual desires with her.  She can become a totem for our sexuality, a miniature drag figure that parodies and celebrates femininity and power. 

In this pic, she's putting on lipstick.  One of my favorite professors once said, "When a woman puts on lipstick, she's telling the world she's ready to fuck."

Looking through Reddits Dirtypenpals subreddit, I'm continually surprised by the number of people interested in roleplaying incest.

I took a Vampire Fiction class at UCLA as an undergrad.  My professor said that nothing loses the public interest like vampires.  I disagree.  Nothing loses the public interest like incest.  

People just don't want to admit it.

The intense taboo of incest (sometimes I think it's the strongest) makes breaking it much more exciting.  But I think it's more than that.  It's about the forbidden, but it's also about generating sexual pleasure from those people in your life that know you better than anyone.  Family ties are among the strongest bonds we will ever experience.  Even if the experiences are negative, some bonds will remain in spite of our efforts to break them.  

It's a tantalizing thought: those people who know you emotionally, who have watched you grow up might also be able to sexually satisfy you better than anyone else.  Perhaps the familial connection would also create the most lasting, loving romantic relationship of your life.

And I still make the same mistakes.  Not in such cataclysmic degrees as when I was younger, but I still find myself drawn to the same flavors of mistakes.

Particularly, men with emotional issues: alcoholics are a favorite, bipolars, the depressed, and the egomanical.  All of these types are extraordinarily interesting and absorbing.  They have great passion---not that the emotionally healthy don't, but those with issues let their passion erupt from them like shooting steam.  They burn but the pain is exquisite and memorable, and the memories are intoxicating.

And the sex, of course, is spectacular, even when it's bad.  But the sex is more than the physical act; it is a vibrant state of mind that is wonderful and painful.  For some of my former mistakes, I can still hear my past moaning.

Images of women tied up and gagged are powerful, not because they give the view feelings of being empowered: we the viewer being in the position of she/he who has tied the women up.  

It's because the women themselves are examples of extreme holders of power.  We don't tie up the weak.  We tie up the strong.  We tie up those who can dominate and destroy us.  Women have always been seen as powerful, even magical figures when it comes to their allure.  The best example being the femme fetale, who moves like a force of evil through the world and men nearly helpless before her charm.

What is more, the women know they are this powerful, and subordinate themselves as a form of release.  They alleviate the burdens of their own power, and become a thing without agency.  

This book is the beginning of something very, very important.  If we cannot look on sex offenders with sympathy and understanding, their is no way anyone can heal and recover from their violence and abuse.  Go here to read the above article.

Now I was rock hard. I'm ashamed to say. I felt entirely helpless to my feelings. I felt possessed by a voracious demon. What made this so much worse was that she had just sent this. And she was in her bedroom upstairs right now.

I didn't think. I did what any man would do having received this kind of pic from a young sexy woman. I pulled my cock out and snapped a pic of me rubbing it. I sent it immediately. I then jumped up and went to the kitchen. I found the bottle of Crown in the freezer and took a large icy swig.

My phone vibrated. A reply already.

I wish I could suck on that right now.

I dropped my phone. I took another swig. What was wrong with me? I had never lusted after my daughter.